There is liberation in the groundswell

Art by L.E.M, Intersect Antigua

A poem about the groundswell of people rising up for a free Palestine, and our strength together in this moment.

The world is curious

Why are we all rallying together for Palestine?

What about Haiti?

Sudan?

The Congo?

We are trying to hold all the world’s grief in our hearts.

We are trying to pry our eyes back open every time they squeeze shut in horror,

every time they blur with tears.

It is heavy, but we hold it up together.

When your eyes blink,

I am here keeping watch.

They ask us this because they know

there is power

power

in this moment of collective focus on Gaza.

This moment of collective anguish and horror

and rage.

rage

Because if we can sustain it, if we can grow it, there is liberation in this kairotic moment.

There is liberation in the groundswell

and maybe only in the groundswell.

liberation

A groundswell is the rising power of waves, the undulating of the ocean’s mighty energy, the result of strong and sustained storm winds thousands of miles away.

I thought we—we the weeping of the world,

wiping our tears as we rise up for Gaza—

I thought we were the waves,

the energy of the whole ocean.

But now I realize,

no.

no

Not only are we the waves, but

we are the storm itself.

It is we who have storm winds spinning in our lungs

It is we who have salt stinging our eyes

It is we who have choppy seas nauseating our bellies.

It is we who are coming for those who think

their peace matters more

their peace requires violence

their violence is justified

their violence is the only one justified.

We are coming with a storm surge, king tide of love and books and history, and facts and protest and divestment and walk outs and marches and rallies and votes.

We are locking ourselves to military cargo ships at the Port of Oakland

and to senator’s doors in Detroit.

We are thunder from the wings of a thousand starlings above a protest in Glasgow.

Cole Riley said

“Your anger is sacred

Your rage, a portal.”

Let it be so.

Let us be the fury of an earth grieving her murdered children:

olive trees uprooted

humans massacred

a horse blown to pieces outside Al Shifa hospital

We are the seismic shift of an earthquake

We are the earth’s bloody red heart bursting from volcanoes

Let us be pelagic armies pulling away each grain of sand below those who think that

injustice will go unnoticed

unexamined

unchanged and unchallenged

because we are splintered and separated,

or because yesterday the sea looked calm from their window.

We are not calm

and we are not splintered.

We are together.

together

Let rage boil up inside our collective intestines, twisted and inextricably tied together by our consumption of the same shit over and over and over:

babies dying

mothers wailing

father’s calling for their children below the rubble.

Let our hurricane-strength winds carry the smoke

from their bombs

from the dust of exploding concrete

and white phosphorous

and fire set to the only pediatric cancer hospital

so we can grab an ember right out of the fucking sky

swallow it

and flood the street like boiling water.

They don’t like it when we are millions strong

swimming against the tide like salmon

telling them this time we have had enough.

This time we have swelled from the ground

we are swollen together and this, finally, is our power

power

Telling them we demand a ceasefire

and

An end to military aid

and

an end to the occupation

and

apartheid

and

self-determination, human rights and safety for all Palestinians and Jews.

We are changing the tides

and

it is far too late

but

now is all we have.

Let it be so.

Let it be so.

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